From Woodlands to Wetlands, coronavirus may affect the natural habitats and set conservation efforts behind by years.Read Now
Scrolling through the social media posts weeks into COVID-19 lockdown, I was elated by the news stories of how nature had hit a reset button.
“With a third of world’s population in lockdown, the animals are taking over”- read a post on Twitter. This is probably the first time in human history that billions of people are forced to spend time indoors and the wildlife seems to be reclaiming the places where the human activity has decreased.
Dolphins, that typically kept away from the murky waters of Venice appear to have returned to the now clear waters of the canals. In Canada, people are spotting wild turkeys in east-end Montreal neighbourhoods. Throughout the southern Ontario, common urban species such as skunks, raccoons, white-tailed deer and foxes are being spotted more often since the pandemic lockdown began.
Author: Yoko Lu
I was travelling in Guatemala during the Christmas break of 2019 while I was doing an internship in Belize. Since it is a neighbouring country, I crossed the border on road without trouble. I took the bus from the capital Belmopan to Benque, a city right next to the border. Then I took the taxi to the border, then went through the immigrant control, and that’s it. There was no machine for scanning the passport – the passport was just passed to the officer, stamped, and returned to me.
I was in Guatemala for 16 days, with some of these days being ‘stuck’ in Antigua because of no shuttle busses on holidays. Antigua is the main hub where there are various connections for long-distance shuttle bus travel. I could have taken chicken busses but that meant spending the whole day transiting in local busses which would stop at anywhere on the road where there were passengers who wanted to board or get dropped off. On one of those days, I went to Copan, Honduras from Antigua, to specifically visit a well-known Mayan archaeological site. There is one sculpture in the picture above that is slightly different from other objects. Can you guess which one? This sculpture is from Copan.
While most of these souvenirs are oriented towards tourists, they are nevertheless connected to biodiversity and nature. The two masks, for example, represent the Mayan history and wildlife. I am guessing what the orange mask with cheetah-like design may represent, but as I was netsurfing through the Internet, I would say that it is a margay. It resembles an ocelot, but with smaller body, longer legs, and tail. Margays are monkey-cats that thrive in trees. They reside in Central and South America.
Conservation-wise, margay (Leopardus wiedii) was widely hunted illegally for wildlife trade, until the 1990s. The animal is listed as Near Threatened (NT) on the Red List of International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). In terms of the recent issues, its population is believed to be declining due to habitat loss, specifically deforestation, as the cat relies on the forest for survival. Other threats are: illegal pet trade, killing for poultry protection, and low reproductive rate. Currently, the cat is fully protected; however, in Ecuador, Guyana, and El Salvador, its protection status is not set. There is a high probability that the margay will be listed as vulnerable in the future. Status and abundance of the animal is poorly known; therefore, more research is necessary.
While the wildlife – flora and fauna – is the primary focus for biodiversity, Mayan culture is important as well. Tikal, for example, is one major archaeological site in Guatemala, and it is also along the border crossing between Belize and Guatemala. Tikal was the first destination I went after entering Guatemala through Belize. Tikal can be reached from Antigua via flight as well.
Selva Maya is a forest region that covers Belize, Guatemala, and Mexico. It is the largest rainforest in Mesoamerica, which ranges from Central Mexico to northern Costa Rica. Within the Selva Maya, there are 20 unique ecosystems that make up different categories of protection, including National Parks, Forest Reserves, and Biosphere Reserves. Tikal itself is dated to being 600 B.C. and A.D. 900, flourishing as an ancient city that consists of over 20 major pyramids. This means that ever since ancient times, ancient people have been utilizing the nature for survival, and used nature as a religious form of worshipping the nature gods. It is thought that there were at least 166 deities, known as the Mayan pantheon. Within the pantheon, some religious figures included animals of Maya, relating to biodiversity being important in both ancient and modern times. For example, the Jaguar Sun God refers to: “Almighty God the Sun dwells in the highest levels of heaven. When he traces the path of the sun across the sky in the daytime, his name is Kinich Ahau. When the sun falls into the West Door and enters the Underworld, he becomes the fearsome Jaguar God.” Tikal Temple I is known as the Temple of the Great Jaguar, as shown as the highest temple in Tikal (left, image below). Another animal god, called Itzam-Yeh, the Celestial Bird, is represented as the Serpent Bird or Seven-Macaw. Four corners of the world are associated, with the world represented as the temple, creating the summit of the sacred temple.
Link: Air Pano (Can be viewed as 360° panorama view by scrolling the mouse)
There are two music instruments that are visible in the assemblage of souvenirs: flute and shaker (placed right of the flute). They are not directly connected to the biodiversity, but they are well-represented as Mayan (or Guatemalan) music culture.
There is a band of crafted dolls in front of larger objects. These reflect the unique Guatemalan textile style as well as relation to the social culture.
Below the band are two belts. I am not sure what the design means, but I was so fascinated by the designs, I decided to purchase in addition to my collection of souvenirs.
Below all the objects placed on the table, there lies a blanket. This is not a blanket; it is a poncho. I have always wanted to be part of the nature and culture; therefore, I was fortunate to have bought it.
P.S. I ran out of space, so I ended up buying an extra luggage in Mexico City to hold all these souvenirs, on my way back to Belize. I carried all these souvenirs on my latter half of the trip, through most of those days, I stayed in Antigua. I was not planning to go to Mexico City, but I had to, because of passport stamp problems (I couldn’t go to El Salvador nor return to Belize via Guatemala – I had to go back to Belize via Mexico or the U.S.).
TRAVEL TIP: If you end up traveling to Antigua, and if you wish to buy souvenirs, Nimpot (Nim Po’t) is the best place to buy souvenirs because their prices are set as minimal. If you buy on the street or at any other stores, the prices are typically much higher, as much as twice the price you find in Nimpot.
Dr. Qinq Li talks about the benefits of the forests in his article Forest Bathing: How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness. He starts by describing the experience of being immersed in nature, “the sounds of the forest, the scent of the trees, the sunlight playing through the leaves, the fresh, clean air — these things give us a sense of comfort. They ease our stress and worry, help us to relax and to think more clearly. Being in nature can restore our mood, give us back our energy and vitality, refresh and rejuvenate us.” Indeed, if you have ever felt like being in the outdoors and near nature has healing qualities, you are not alone.
In Japan, there is a term for spending time in nature and its “something called forest bathing, or shinrin-yoku. Shinrin in Japanese means “forest,” and yoku means “bath.” So shinrin-yoku means bathing in the forest atmosphere, or taking in the forest through our senses.” This experience is not about going hiking or jogging; it is merely about being in nature and connecting our minds to the experience. It is about smelling the forest, touching the earth, and tasting the air.
While we can be very busy with our daily chores and activities, make sure you spend time in nature.
SO, how does one go about forest bathing?
Forest Bathing: How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness Hardcover 2018 by, Dr. Qing Li
The Little Book of Forest Bathing: Discovering the Japanese Art of Self-Care by Andrews McMeel Publishing
By: Laura Gaitan
INTRODUCTION TO HONEY
Honey is produced and used globally for different uses including health care and medicine. Honey has been collected by humans since the Stone Age, where the ancient people have stone-carved to show the tradition of honey harvesting, since at least 8,000 B.C. Beeswax has also been used as waterproofing for pottery as well as offering to the gods and healing for illness and wounds. These miraculous benefits have been passed on even to today, where we use honey on many occasions.
Honey provides many health benefits. It has antibacterial properties, having positive effect against several strains, such as E. coli and salmonella. Honey helps soothe throats and improves sleep. Cancer, heart disease, and diabetes can also be prevented as well as hemorrhoids and ulcers. Honey is often regarded as a better treatment than typical medicine that can be found in the pharmacies.
While honey is very beneficial, it is always important to remember that the overconsumption should always be prevented. A high amount of honey consumption may lead to having too much sugar and calories; therefore, honey should be used as a replacement for sugar.
A selection of dessert recipes based on honey is listed in this article, in which the recipes are from geographic regions of the world.
TABLE OF CONTENT
1. SOUTH AMERICA (ARGENTINA, BOLIVIA, CHILE, PERU, URUGUAY) & NORTHERN MEXICO & US (NEW MEXICO, TEXAS)
Sopaipilla, also known as sopapilla, sopaipa, or cachanga, is originated in South America, now widespread into northern Mexico and southern U.S., with a large population of Hispanics. Sopaipilla can be found on menus of the Mexican restaurants in the U.S., where some restaurant-goers have been inspired and made recipe of their own. In the case of one online recipe provider, the author remembered that sopaipilla was her favourite food as a child. Her link is as below.
Here is the link to the recipe.
Source: Picky Palate (link)
Indian-style Eggless honey cake is like sponge/vanilla cake with an exception of the icing which consists of honey and strawberry jam. This cake is very popular in southern India. This cake can be found in local bakeries as slices. This cake is perfect for someone who is allergic to eggs.
Here is the link to the recipe.
Source: Hebbar’s Kitchen (Link)
Struffoli is a collection of honey dough balls that are mixed and ornamented. It can be made for Christmas and Easter Holiday. It is a wonderful treat for your family.
Here is the link to the recipe.
Source: An Italian in My Kitchen (link)
Honey Castella is a popular sponge cake in Japan. It is a very simple cake with only four ingredients: eggs, sugar, bread flour, and honey. Its name is coined after the Spanish Castilla Monarchy, when the Portuguese merchants arrived in Japan in the 16th century via Nagasaki.
Here is the link to the recipe.
Source: Rotin Rice (link)
Author’s comments: Castilla cake can be found in any food stores in Japan and they are commonly sold as gifts, wrapped graciously. They are not very sweet, compared to many desserts we find in Canada – they are perfectly made for our tastes! You can try making one yourself without going to Japan and enjoy the taste of Japan.
5. SOUTH AFRICA
Heuningkoek is a honey cake that is not widely known (as it seems to the author, as there were not much information found online on this cake). This recipe provider has proved that her husband loved the honey cake so much that she was asked to make the cake many times, later making their children addicted too. Based on her instructions, if a butter or vanilla cake mix is available, all the required to make is just the sauce. If you want to try something different and original, then this South African cake should make your day much better.
Here is the link to the recipe.
Source: Simple Living Creative Learning (Link)
6. TURKEY (& Balkans & Middle East)
Baklava is an old traditional recipe that was originated in Turkey during the Ottoman Empire which is as early as the 15th century. It has now spread across the Balkans and the Middle East. Its recipe varies across each country, with the filling can be made from different nuts such as walnuts, almonds, and pistachios. In Greece, baklava is a tradition during Easter, where 33 layers of filo dough (‘leaf’ in Greek) represent 33 years of the life of Christ. An interesting depiction of the Christ - it is indeed a wonderful recipe for celebrating the holiday.
Here is the link to the recipe.
Source: Hilah Cooking (Link)
Author’s comments: I have tried baklava while travelling in Europe. I don’t remember which country I have tried baklava, but I enjoyed it so much that I will always remember the delicious taste. The pastry layer was crunchy with a mixture of different nuts sweetened with honey. I wish I could find this in Canada and would love to eat it again.
***Do you know any honey recipes from your country or family, or any unique ways to use honey? Please let us know if you have any suggestions and we are happy to share!***
With everything going on in the world right now, there is no doubt that it is taking a toll on our mental health. While many resources have been available to help us during these difficult times, we may want to seek alternative help. A topic that has become popular recently is the impact of nature on our mental health. Studies have shown that a greater exposure to nature can result in the reduction of negative resources including anxiety and stress. You may ask yourself, “how can I get involved in nature in a way that will help me mentally?”. It can be something as simple as taking a walk, or if you prefer a more meditative experience, you can try forest bathing. Of course, it may not be possible or comfortable going on a walk during these times, but there are ways you can indulge in these benefits indoors. Studies have found that even looking at pictures of nature can improve our moods. During this time, it is important to know that you are not alone. While we are physically distancing from other individuals, we can still be in touch with nature. Throughout the month of May, we will be focusing on the benefits of the relationship between nature and mental health. We will be teaching you skills to help maximize this relationship, and we hope you will join us in this journey.
By: Francine Pauvif
Smartphones. Captivating, empowering, and enslaving devices. Can we resist their temptations? Yes, of course. Do we resist their temptations? Probably less often than we should. Since smartphones entered the market in 2007 they have revolutionised the world, both for better and for worse. Now, in an instant, seemingly anything you want to know and anyone you want contact is right at your fingertips. In mere moments we can learn all the successes and failures of generations or witness, in vivid detail, the splendor of others’ lives. Yet, with such innovation also came a surge in reports of anxiety and depression – even though humanity is more “connected” than ever, we are also increasingly lonesome. Everyday we are bombarded with so much information that fact and fiction have become blurred in captivating headlines while instant gratification becomes so commonplace that patience is almost considered a waste of time and sleep deprivation an elected choice. With so much knowledge and opportunity available, do we really have time to relax?
I have had a smartphone for ten years. Ten years of constant connection. If I want to know something, I Google it, if someone wants to talk to me, they call or text and I answer shortly because my phone is never far away. This device has become an extension of my body, with my visual cortex and reward centers sending a rush of dopamine through my veins every time I look at it. On more than one occasion I have panicked thinking I have misplaced my phone only to discover that I am holding it to my ear on a call. The explanation: my brain is compelled to look at the device every so often; however, when it realized that, for some reason, my phone was no where to be seen, it became stressed – like an addict needing their fix. Oh seductive smartphone, how I need you. Still, I remember my childhood, before your creation, when I would spend stress free summers splashing along shorelines in the pursuit of frogs, frolicking in fields making wildflower bouquets, and gardening with my grandfather helping him plant his famous beans. A time when experiences were personal and media was only accessible through the television or a desktop computer. Since you came into my life have we ever been apart? I think not. That was until last year – “No phones allowed” said the Outward Bound guides, on the eve of our 10-day wilderness expedition.
In late October 2019 I became a member of the Canadian Wildlife Federation’s Canadian Conservation Corps which provides young environmentally driven Canadians with networking and professional opportunities. For the first portion of this program participants are joined with nine other youth from across the country to take part in a wilderness expedition with the goal of strengthening their bonds to nature. Our expedition began in Comox, British Columbia where we gathered at an Outward Bound camp to pack and prepare for our 10 day sea kayaking adventure through the Southern Gulf Islands. There, on the day before our departure, we sifted through our belongings, moving items into stuff sacs ensuring that we were prepared, but not overpacked for our early November journey. That is when they said it. “No phones allowed, turn them off and pack them away in your suitcase.” In an instant the playful atmosphere of the group changed to one of mild anxiety and fear as we analyzed our guides faces, not sure if they were serious. Feeling our apprehension, the leaders assured us that the ocean was no place for expensive electronics. We were then given a few minutes to inform our loved ones and with that, for the first time ever, my phone was left behind. That night as we sat together under the light of headlamps, we each chose a job for the next day. You could be the leader (responsible for nautical navigation), ethnobotanist (educator on a native species), foodie (chef), scrubby (dishwasher), tarpologist (responsible for securing both kayaks and tarps), storyteller (journalist and leader of daily reflections - they were also given a basic waterproof digital camera for pictures) or hydro-pyro (responsible for water and fire). I chose to be a leader.
The next day we, the BC Sea Seals, traveled down to Maple Bay, slid our kayaks into the water and began the journey of a lifetime. Leading the team through the ocean waves was harder than I anticipated. In a single kayak, with only my strength to propel me again the current, I was quickly humbled. I had kayaked many times before, but never under those conditions or for that distance. That first day truly challenged me as I physically battled the waters and mentally battled myself. I was the leader. It is a position I frequently take, but in that group, each and everyone one of us shared that capacity. I had to learn to trust and rely on them. Together, as a pod, we traveled those waters encouraging each other while we shared stories and aspirations. I made a point to be the first to reach the beach of our campsite and as I tried to exit the kayak, I fell into the water – no else did, ever. Humbled again. I was experienced in the wilderness, but I was not invincible – this was a time for humility and learning. That night as darkness covered the distant mountains, I listened to the exhale of swimming creatures as I threw rocks into the ocean and marveled at the blue bioluminescent glow of startled dinoflagellates. Had my phone been with me I most certainly would have tried to capture their light, but probably to no avail. In that moment with no distractions, their luminescence was etched into my memory where I hope it stays forever.
Over the next several days we saw many sites of incredible splendor. As we traversed, we caught a glimpse of elusive porpoises, spotted a bald eagle feasting on its prey, and admired chubby seals relaxing in their banana pose. Before this trip I did not understand how incredibly adorable seals are! On multiple occasions seals would follow behind our group, intrigued by our presence, and once a seal even followed us for over a kilometer! Looking into the water we would frequently pass through smacks of delicate white moon jellyfish and clusters of purple and orange sea stars. Coming from an inland province, witnessing these creatures in the wild was truly astonishing; however, in all its wonder, I still could not help but imagine what Turtle Island was like prior to colonisation. This part of the ocean is now known as the Salish Seas named after the Coastal Salish First Nations whose traditional territory we were traveling through. The pre-colonisation Coastal Salish First Nations were some of the most prosperous tribes in all of North America due to the rich abundance of the land on which they resided. In particular, the Coastal Salish are known for their generosity, art and architecture with many common images of First Nations originating from the Salish people including: long houses, cedar canoes, potlaches and totem poles. As we continued to kayak, passing rocky and sandy outcrops, a strange looking tree – Arbutus menzeisii – with twisted branches, silken green bark and thick tropical looking leaves, would both greet and reminded us of the power and protection of nature. The Coastal Salish tell of a time where there was a great flood that covered the land. In order to save their people from drowning they tied cedar canoes to an arbutus tree at the top of a mountain. Since that day, the Salish people do not burn arbutus wood out of respect for their rescue. Gliding through those waters surrounded by sacred beings; I was present. I felt the breeze in my hair, the spray of water on my face, the sway of the kayak and the smell of the ocean. No image or video could have captured that moment. As I observed, tasted, listened, touched and smelled, I felt a sense of belonging.
The splendor of nature was not the only beauty I witnessed in the wilderness; my comrades were equally stunning. Traveling through the wilds we could only rely, confide and trust in each other. We become a family in a very short amount of time. With no distractions from phone vibrations or bad songs on Spotify we shared stories of our fears for the future and concerns for returning home. Each one of us felt freedom in the quiet of nature and, on more than one occasion, had voiced concerns over returning to a world of technological connection – of being reunited with our smartphones. When at home technology divides us as much as it connects us. On buses we do not talk to one another as we tap away on our phones, when in a group of new people we hide behind brightly lit screens and as we walk down the street, headphones on, we avoid eye contact with other pedestrians. Yet on the ocean, without technology’s sanctuary, there was no place to hide and no opportunity for façade. It turned out that we did not need our phones and in fact, they were almost too easy to give up. As the days progressed, I watched us all allow vulnerability, gain confidence in ourselves, relax and, most importantly, become present.
Nearing the end of our trip we made camp on Blackberry Beach of a forestry island that has zero amenities. Looking down the long dazzling white sand beach with tall conifers and arbutus trees you would never know the scars that the island is hiding at its interior – a hollow clear cut. We were told that this land was sold to a logging company generations ago for a minimal sum. With a sad heart I never gazed the destruction, yet I doubt its rarity. How much devastation and turmoil in our world is hidden behind beautiful exteriors? On that island we conducted our solos. An appropriate selection for a 24-hour period of isolation where we would confront our interiors. As we prepared for our solitary experience, you could once again see a mixture of angst, hesitation and excitement on peoples faces – similar to when we were told to leave our phones behind. Our last safety net of connection, each other, was about to be removed. When was the last time that we were truly alone with no friends or phones to keep us company? For myself, as with others, it had been too long to remember, perhaps even never. In silence, after the instructions were given, we each walked the down the beach and through the forest and until we reached the spot where we would reside in isolation. One by one as my comrades arrived at their plots and as I witnessed the emotions written plain on their faces one fact became clear; this would be a significant experience for all of us. As I reach my plot and gazing down the slope, I realised I had access to a driftwood covered beach. Amazing! Where we had camped the previous night was devoid of any driftwood, so this beach was truly a blessing and I knew exactly what I was going to do. Build a castle.
For the duration of the day I worked to accomplish my mission. I chose a site between two big logs, below a magnificent arbutus tree. From there I walked down the beach collecting wood acting as both an architect and a builder. As I continued construction time passed fluidly. I had no watch to check, but as the tide moved in and out and the sun dance across the sky, the day progressed. On a typical day how would I check the time? I would look at my phone, unlock it and once again get the dopamine flowing…perhaps it would be a wise to acquire a watch. As I persisted in my work, I knew I would never spend time in my castle again, but that fact was irrelevant for there was pleasure in my artistry. Although I was isolated from my companions I was never alone – I was surrounded by life. A king fisher was perched on top of the bluff then swooped into the ocean to catch a fish. A seal swarm right up to my shore and was just about to rest on my sandy beach, when sadly, he startled at my presence and swam away. In the intertidal zone seagulls smashed molluscs on rocks in preparation for a shellfish dinner. A raccoon, standing still, stared me down, fabricating his escape route on the same mission as the seagulls – this was the first time I had ever seen a raccoon not reliant on humans. Massive sea lions one by one swam in the distance, loudly gasping for oxygen as they traveled by violently flinging their prey side to side while hordes of opportunistic seagulls flew overhead ready for any available morsel. As the wind whistled through the leaves of the sacred arbutus, I understood that Nature is humanity’s oldest friend.
After I had completed the castle, I hung my tarp inside and started a fire. I have started countless fires in my lifetime, but that day I was using matches like I was eating potato chips, consuming one after another. Eventually when I did get my fire started, I was ashamed of my impatience and ill prep and once again was humbled. Shelter built, wood gathered, and fire started I took time to relax. I watched the golden sunset transform into a sky of lilac-rose, listened to the soothing hymn of the waves and smelled the smoke of my fire. I then took out my journal, drew my castle and sorted my thoughts. Art. I used to be so artistic, drawing, painting, crocheting, and playing instruments, but sometime in my pursuit of scientific education my artistic expression died. Throughout the trip I listened to people play the ukulele and it surfaced a sorrow I had long been repressing. I missed art. I had let it perish and for that, I have no defence. As I looked at my castle and my drawing, I decided to never let it die again. When return home, I will revive my old friend. This will be my relaxation. What do I usually do to relax? Read an article online, watch a video on YouTube, infinitely scroll down my Facebook feed. None of those things are relaxing. One night, a fellow BC Sea Seals mentioned how she could feel her brain become quiet, no longer cluttered by the noise of a million thoughts. I could feel it too. In the wilderness, without trivial preoccupations, the whispers of my inner truths become apparent. On that beach I had no other task than to exist. It was almost an alien feeling to my usual sensation of guilty relaxation. After all, there is so much to do…right? Wrong.
Social media and information glut have left many of us sedated. Today we experience such intense and constant stimulation that we are almost inexplicably drawn to and captivated by things we do not even care about. Our brains are both busy and exhausted all at the same time. With this lack of mental energy is it really a surprise that anxiety and depression are on the rise? When I think about humanity’s connection to Nature one question comes to mind. Why does it feel as though the older we get the less we see? This question has nothing to do with hectares of greenspace, but rather with a state of mind. Watching a child stare at a bird or chase a butterfly, one witnesses the pure wonder which they themselves have long forgotten in adulthood. Our society has become so engrossed with trivial matters of vanity and consumption that we have distanced ourselves from that which breathed us life, calm, healing and prosperity for time immemorial. Nature. Her embrace has been proven to cure mental health issues, to strengthen and heal immune systems and quiet the mind so we can hear the buzz of all the non-human life around us. As I contemplate the effects of smartphones, on myself and society I can not help but consider Billy Joel’s Vienna lyrics “Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while.” I think that is exactly what we need, to take time with our thoughts, to practice selfcare and to watch the clouds roll by while listening to universe’s whispers carried to us by the wind.
When the final day of the expedition arrived, I was a leader once again – a leader the first, a leader the last. It was also was the first full day of rain we had experienced throughout the entirety of the trip – we had encountered the best November weather the region had seen in over 60 years. On our last day of travels, we passed by rocky intertidal zones at low tide and were able to see constellations of sea stars close enough to touch. As we pulled up to our final shore, packed our kayaks and traveled back to Comox, I had much to think about. I had just been informed that during our days at sea my grandfather had passed away. Grief stricken, before I even said a word, the BC Sea Seals comforted me, like family. When I arrived back to base I was hesitant to pick up my phone. We all were. I did not want to go back to who I was before that journey. I did not want to be seduced by colourful screens and mindless happenings. This trip was both a gift from Canada and my grandfather who have always supported my dreams. As I sit here, thinking back on all the joy that trip brought me, as well as what I unknowingly gave up by attending it. I vow to not let it be vain. I will rejuvenate my inner artist, take time to observe the beauty of nature and will accomplish my endeavour of becoming a global leader in conservation-minded sustainable agriculture. I promise.
Written by: Fallon Hayes